


Book of Dreams (old)

by Mafdet (orphan_account)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Ancient Egypt AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mafdet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an Egypt AU I don't really know what else to say without spoiling stuff whoop</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He who comes

you can put all the flowers in your mouth  
that you fucking want  
but dying is dying and rot is rot  
-Shitty Horoscopes  
~

Dipper finished dusting off the ancient stone idol and sat back. It was a tiny thing compared to some of the statues and monuments they’d found before, maybe an inch wide and two or three inches tall, but there was something odd about this one, something off.

It depicted a god, his serene, kingly face placed on a lion’s body, with what looked like… was that a snake’s tail? 

“Mabel, go grab the gods and goddesses book! This isn’t a sphinx like I thought it was.” Just seconds later Mabel skidded to an overenthusiastic stop, throwing copious amounts of sand in Dipper’s face. As he spat it out, she proffered an old, worn book with the title ‘Egyptian Pantheon’ written in scrawling, spidery script. It had been a lucky find in the used book store that had been right around the corner from his high school, and had proven itself incredibly useful over the years. As he paged through it, Mabel kept up a steady stream of chatter.

“This is way more exciting than that boring pot we found yesterday! And that gold scarab. I mean the scarab was pretty cool too but this is-” Dipper shushed her and pointed at one of the book’s yellowed pages.

“There! Doesn’t it look like that picture? Snake’s tail and everything.” He sounded fairly satisfied with himself; it wasn’t every day he found something significant like this. “It says his name is Tutu, the Egyptian dream god.”

“Well that makes sense! Dream gods do seem to follow you-” She stopped for a moment when Dipper glared at her. “Hey I mean, we’re in Kellis, right? Excavating the village temple! Of course you’d find something like that here!” She giggled. 

“Mmm. Well at the very least it’ll tell us more about how ancient Egyptians worshipped their gods. Those hieroglyphics along the bottom must mean something.” Dipper attempted to wipe some of the dust off of his forehead with one hand, succeeding in smearing more across his face. “I’ll translate them tonight in the tent.”

“Alright! You ready to head back? It’s getting dark, and maybe I can help you!” Mabel was right, the sun had already begun to set.”

“As long as you let me do the cooking this time.” Dipper poured some sand out of his hat and stood up, dusting his knees off. “I can’t eat burnt soup again.”

“Fine! If you don’t like my cooking, try making breakfast yourself tomorrow!” Mabel swatted her brother’s arm as they started to trudge back to their campsite.  
“Hey you know what? Maybe I will!” 

~

“Well the rush next to a vulture means ‘he,’ and that bit with the feather in it over there means ‘who comes.’ I’m pretty sure that segment means ‘call,’ which leaves the weird squiggly thing with the arms.” Dipper moved the lamp closer to the carving’s base and squinted as Mabel peeked over his shoulder.

“It looks like the glyph you found on the temple yesterday. The one near the big alter.” Dipper frowned slightly.

“Yeah it kind of does. That temple is dedicated to Tutu too. Maybe this was used in a ritual of some kind.” He nudged the dusty old hieroglyphs dictionary towards the light a bit more.

“Maybe it’s for calling Tutu!” Mabel said with a snort. “I still can’t get over that name. Tutu… haha.”

“Well in Egypt tutu didn’t mean a puffy skirt like it does today.” Dipper pulled out the ‘Egyptian Pantheon’ book again and flipped to Tutu’s page. “He was the guardian of dreams and was apparently in control of quite a lot of demons.”

“Whooo were they powerful demons? Like, Bill powerful?” Mabel flung herself onto a cot, nearly banging her head on the edge as she did so.

“I don’t think so. It seems more like Tutu was Bill-powerful and the rest were lesser demons. What’s weird is this feeling I can’t shake that this statue has, or had magic imbued in it. I’m not really sure.” He poked it experimentally. “I was hoping that the Journal would have something about it but I’m not seeing anything.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something, bro bro! C’mon, you’ve always figured stuff out before! Just let your brain juices do their thing and bam! You’ll have an answer.” She sighed and wriggled into her sleeping bag. “Of course you could leave it until morning, and, ya know, not keep me up for once.” She flung one of her pillows haphazardly towards Dipper, who dodged it with practiced ease. Ten years later and her older brother was still keeping her up with his reading.

“You’re going to have to stop throwing pillows at me if you want me to stop. Besides, if you throw any more, your pillow hoard will have depleted too much for you to sleep.” Mabel snorted at his words. 

“I should throw another pillow at you just for saying that! How dare you threaten the queen of the pillows, knave!” Mabel shook her fist in Dippers direction as he stifled his laughter. “Oh so you laugh! Your laughter only makes me stronger! You cannot defeat the pure awesomeness that is Mabe-oof!” She cut off mid-word as Dipper chucked the pillow back at her. “Gee thanks.”

“Just go to sleep Mabs. I’ll turn off the light soon.” Mabel huffed at Dipper’s words but snuggled up in her sleeping bag anyway.

“You’d better!”

~

Dipper sighed and ran one hand through his hair. It had been more than two hours since he’d promised Mabel he’d go to bed but he had this intense urge to just finish the project that he’d ignored his better instincts and instead of sleeping, continued to attempt translating.

“He who comes… calling him. He who comes what? It’s that one damn word. Just one! It sounds like his official title. Mmm what would be in an official title? He who comes, he who comes to who? To the one calling him? How would you even call him?” Dipper rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Still, that sounds right. He who comes to the one calling him. Might as well call it a night.” He blinked blearily. His eyes felt heavy, oddly so, and he felt itchy all over in unusual way. Dipper chalked it up to lack of sleep. He could always work on little statue more in the morning. He curled up in his sleeping bag and drifted off, still feeling itchy.


	2. All Roads lead to Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel meet the slave markets and someone who greatly resembles a certain kid from Gravity Falls.

Loneliness is a fracture  
That never heals quite right  
-Shitty horoscopes

~

Mabel turned over on the hard cot, her fingers scrabbling on the floor to find the pillows she had no doubt shoved off the bed in the middle of the night. Except she wasn’t on a cot, and instead of actually managing to scrabble at the floor she instead rammed her fingers into hard-packed dirt and dust. With a sharp intake of breath in pain and shock, she bolted upright. 

Dipper was curled up a few feet away in a fetal position, wearing what looked like a rough linen tunic, which was similar, she realized, to the slightly longer tunic she was wearing. It was itchy as hell, too. 

“Dipper. Dipper.” She quietly hissed her brother’s name, prodding at his shoulder. “Dipper wake up.” He swatted her hand away, mumbling. “Dipper!”   
“Okay, okay I’m up.” He rolled and propped himself up with one arm, stifling a yawn. “It’s early Mabs, what do you want?”

“Dipper look around! We aren’t in our tent.” Mabel’s voice had a slightly panicked edge and her eyes were wide. “Where are we? What happened? What did you do?” For once she had panicked first, and she seemed like she was about to start hyperventilating.

“I-I don’t know! I swear I didn’t do anything last night all I did was study! Maybe the Journal has something?” He sat up and glanced around frantically, trying to place where the grimy book could have been placed when they ended up… wherever they were. As he searched, a sharp pang of panic shot through him- without the book they had no way to get home. “Mabel, I can’t find it!” Now he was the one scrabbling around desperately in the dust. “Ma-“

“Quiet you there!” Someone with a heavy Roman accent and terrible English called harshly into the dim room. Glancing up from the floor, Dipper saw a flash of white cloth pass by the rickety wooden door and move on down the hall. As the mystery person’s footsteps faded, Mabel crept over to where Dipper was sitting.

“Who was that?” Her whisper was full of concern, and she looked almost terrified, which was an unusual state for either of them to be in, one way or the other. And wait, was she shaking? Her hand was trembling slightly as she reached towards him for reassurance that wherever they were, whenever they were, they’d be okay. 

“I, I don’t know Mabs.” He used the pet name not just to (reassure synonym) her, but to help him as well. They were siblings, partners, and they’d never abandoned each other; through all of their adventures they’d seen them through, and this one would be no different. Running his hand through his hair nervously, he briefly noticed that he wasn’t wearing his cap anymore, dismissing it to focus on the much more important task of freeing them.

“Dipper, that guy didn’t sound like he’s, I don’t know,” She made an odd, uncertain gesture with her hands. “Modern?” Despite how preposterous that might have sounded, Dipper actually agreed with her. 

“Yeah…” He trailed off, trying to think of anything useful in this situation. Calling pixies? No, they weren’t native to Egypt. Maybe some sort of spell? The only spell he could think of to open a wooden door would involve fire, which, all things considered, would be a stupid decision in what appeared to be a building mainly composed of wood. No, they were stuck here until someone came to get them. He didn’t have the components or time for a warding spell either. All they could do was wait.

~

They’d been sitting in silence for some time, long enough for Mabel to fall asleep anyway, her side pressed against his and her head leaning on his shoulder, like every time she’d fallen asleep on the job before. The only difference was the lack of books, which was incredibly unusual around the Pines duo. Dipper was getting especially jumpy about the Journal. God knew where it was now, but it certainly wasn’t here. So without the books to pass the time, he was forced to sit here, dread settling in his stomach with every second.  
“Hey Mabel?” It was his turn this time to prod the other twin awake. Blinking blearily up at him, Mabel yawned and replied.

“Yeah?” Dipper cleared his throat apologetically for waking her up and flicked his eyes towards the door, ensuring they were alone.

“If he wasn’t a modern person… what time period do you think he would be from? I mean he sounds almost like an Ancient Roman but that wouldn’t make sense because we’re in Egypt…” He trailed off again, brow furrowed as he thought, trying to match times, places, and people to wherever they were now. For all he knew they were nowhere, not in their timeline anyway. They could have been pulled out of the time space continuum and he wouldn’t know, not until they got out of the room anyway. “But maybe Romans travelled this far down into Egypt at some point? Or I guess if we did move time periods we could have moved places too. Wouldn’t be out of question.” He laughed drily. “This is a weird conversation, even for us.”

“Well it’s mostly just you talking, but yes, yes it is.” Mabel gave him a nervous, shaky grin. “But c’mon, we’ll be fine. We can do this together!” Even for someone as positive as Mabel, it almost seemed preposterous to be capable of it now of all times. “Ah yes, the Pines Twins, adventurers extraordinaire! We can get out of anywhere! Like remember that time with the dragon? The one that flew straight into the mountain after you threw the stick for it?” She was giggling now.

“Yeah, yeah! Who knew dragons liked playing fetch, right?” Dipper grinned. “Oh! And remember that time I accidentally pissed off a nest of will-o-the-wisps? They tried to lead us to drowning for weeks.” He was opening his mouth to add something when Mabel spoke.

“Good thing the Journal taught us how to give them the slip, huh?” She nudged Dipper with her elbow. “Come on, it’s not that bad, is it? Is it?” Mabel paused, finally noticing the look on Dipper’s face- absolute horror. “What?”

“Mabel, you know we don’t have the journal, right? It didn’t come with us, wherever we are. It’s gone.” Mabel froze at his words, her face falling and eyes widening as she too came to the realization that maybe, just maybe, they were royally screwed.

“We… we don’t?” Mabel gave Dipper a brief searching look before quickly trying to dismiss her worry. “We’ll be fine! Don’t forget you stopped a giant robot all on your own once. Plus all of those spells you have memorized! We’ll be fine, I know it.” Dipper nodded with her, trying to make himself believe Mabel’s words.  
“Sure.”  
~  
Many long, hot hours later, the sun had risen and a dull roar sounded down the hall, the blended rabble of raised voices in one large room together. Every so often, a white-robed man holding a stylus and tablet strode down the corridor, opening cages, seemingly at random, and hanging wooden signs around each prisoners neck before parading them (“Naked!” As Mabel had all but screeched) back down the hall towards what was presumably the main market. Both twins had recognized what this meant and it had started a trickle of dread deep in Dipper’s stomach as they waited their turn. The Pines twins weren’t mere prisoners, as Dipper had hoped. No, they were in the slave markets, in an all too real cell, waiting their turn to be sold, just like any other foreign prisoner would be. 

It was all too soon when the robed man stood outside their cell, pointed stylus in hand, barking orders in at them in what thankfully sounded like a dialect of Latin, one of the few languages both Dipper and Mabel understood- Mabel for translating purposes, and Dipper for his spellwork. Angry words flew from the man’s mouth as they scrambled to follow his instructions. Get up. Strip. Hold still. Stand like this. Walk like this. Hold your head up. Mouth shut, don’t speak. It seemed like ages before he was satisfied enough to march them out of their cell, hands bound and signs hung around their necks, and into the all-to-real world.

The sun was blinding, and the noise deafening when they finally walked barefoot onto the dusty, splinter-ridden stage. There were four bids on ‘the pretty one’(Mabel had filled out nicely) before they’d even been situated, and up to seven once they’d been centered. After what Dipper would describe as ‘a miserable hour and a half,’ the slavemaster finally called for last bids, ineffectively trying to silence the crowd as he shouted over the other voices.

“Once! Twice! S-“ The last word, the word that would have ended the auction, died in his throat as a painfully high, nasally voice called from the back of the room.   
“I’ll take the both of them! 5,000 denarii each!” The auction master’s eyes widened as he heard the offer- far more than any previous bids. He lowered his hand decisively, pointing in the voice’s general direction.

“Sold!”

It took the mystery voice longer than was really necessary to finally end up somewhat near the stage to pick the twins up. Both were shivering despite the heat, and Dipper was trying to shield Mabel from strangers’ eyes, with little success. At last though a young man stepped authoritatively towards them, throwing white tunics at them as he cut the ropes from their wrists before speaking animatedly with the slavemaster, handing over the allotted coins as he did so. Spinning around on one heel, he shoved the two barely-dressed twins forward, muttering about running for Senate under his breath and glancing furtively at the shadows as though something malevolent was pursuing him, hurrying as he sped towards an unknown goal.

When the trio finally paused for a break Dipper finally took the time to get a good look at their new owner. He was short and pudgy, with baby-like cheeks and a cheerful, if frightening, smile. His pale hair was slicked back and he looked almost eerily like… Gideon? Dipper recoiled from the maybe-Gideon, his face a portrait of confusion.  
“Gideon?” The young man stiffened and turned towards Dipper, his shocked face mirroring Dipper’s. 

“Do I know you?”


End file.
